Let's Dance
by Boyfrom0z
Summary: Whilst hunting down a ghost at a gay bar, Dean discovers that Cas is nearly incapable of dancing. It's up to Sam to rectify this situation. Dean/Cas and a bit of swearing. Mostly fluff with a dash of crack. One-shot.


_A/N: Set in that wonderful AU of season 6 where Sam has a soul, Cas hangs around, Dean is just Dean, and the three of them take on the monster of the week. And, yes, this is totally named after a David Bowie song.  
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_Written for/inspired by/suggested by a certainly lovely someone who knows who she is._

_(Also, this is my 42nd story! Any Douglas Adams fan can be excited with me!)  
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"Dean, what are they doing?" asked Castiel as the hunting trio eased their way through the crowded room and over to the bar.

"Who?"

"Those couples," replied the angel, jerking his head towards as area of the room off to their right.

"They're dancing."

"I thought dances were performed in groups."

"They can be," said Sam, taking the beer Dean had ordered him. "But most dancing for fun is couples."

"I see," said Castiel also accepting a beer from Dean. "And are they always enacted by couples of the same gender?"

"Uh no," said Sam.

"Dude, people are giving us some weird looks," said Dean, glancing uncomfortably around over his own beer.

"That's because there's three of us and they're trying to figure out which of us is the third wheel."

"Haunted gay bar. This is just great," muttered Dean, glowering around at the men of various levels of flamboyancy who were eyeing him, his brother, and his angel.

"Dean, a job's a job," said Sam patiently. "Just be glad it isn't a lesbian bar."

"And how are _you_ doing tonight?" asked a man who'd sidled up to Dean.

"Better before you came along."

"Just trying to be friendly," said the stranger, annoyed.

"Yeah, well, save it."

"You here with your boy, then?" he asked, shooting an appraising glance at Sam.

"Ew, no man; he's my brother! That's nasty. No offence, Sammy," he added quickly.

"None taken," said Sam, looking equally weirded out.

"Dean," said Castiel, touching the hunter's arm to get his attention, "I think we should-."

"In a minute," hissed Dean before the angel said anything about hunting.

"Oh. Well, I'll leave you two to it then. What about you? You come here often?" asked the man, turning his attention to Sam who he now assumed to be the third wheel.

"No," he said quickly.

Dean shot Sam a "this would be a good time to ask some questions" look.

Sam tried not to make a face and resigned himself to talking to this slightly intoxicated man.

"Um, do you?" Sam added.

"All the time, sweetheart," he said, smiling and making himself more comfortable next to the younger Winchester.

"Is it nice?"

"The people are nice."

"Nothing odd?"

"What do you mean?"

Dean jerked his head at Castiel and the pair abandoned Sam to speak privately away from the crowded bar. However, they were not able to make their escape before Sam shot them both a very nasty look.

"What is it?" asked Dean, once they had gained some privacy in a corner.

"I believe this building _is_ haunted. However it would seem the spirit is dormant at the moment."

"Great. Making itself scarce. Suppose that's good for all these people, but it makes our job harder," mussed Dean, falling into quiet thought.

Meanwhile, Castiel was looking around the packed bar as if expecting to see something supernatural just hanging out with the other patrons.

"What are you doing? Scanning with some kind of angel-dar?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"I think there's something among the dancers. It feels strongest there. We should investigate." Castiel took a few purposeful strides towards the dance floor before Dean managed the grab the back of his trench coat and jerk him back.

"Where are you going?"

"To investigate."

"Investigate? Cas, you can't just ask everyone to please move so we can look for a dormant ghost."

Castiel gave him a confused look, but thankfully deferred to Dean's judgment in such human relations matters.

"There's only one way to do this," said Dean.

He glanced back towards his brother who had moved on to talking to the bar tender, a slender, handsome man. The hunter looked back at the angel and sighed. The song blasting over the dancers changed to a much slower one.

"Oh jeez," sighed Dean. "Come on, Cas."

"Dean, what are we-?"

"Just come on," said Dean, grabbing the angel's arm and hauling him off towards the dance floor. "Where exactly should we be looking?"

"In the center."

"Lead the way."

Castiel led Dean out into the center of the floor, carefully wending his way between couples who were all tightly wound around one another. When he reached a certain spot, he stopped and looked at Dean.

"Here."

Dean rolled his eyes at the angel who was just standing there.

"Come on, people are staring," he whispered.

"I don't under-," Castiel began.

"Just go with it," hissed Dean.

He glanced at the nearest couple and then, mimicking them, pulled Castiel's arms around his waist and placed his own around the angel's neck. Castiel looked horrified.

"Dean! What are you-?"

"Blending in. Just copy everyone else."

Castiel nodded and leaned uncertainly against Dean's chest. The hunter could feel tension throughout the angel's body. And he had to agree. It was really awkward.

By the end of the dance, Dean had learned two things. One, there was a hollowed out place under the center of the dance floor that they would be breaking in later to investigate, and two, Castiel was a terrible dancer.

The pair quickly made their way back to the bar and Sam the moment the song was over. Castiel looked stunned and Dean was trying very hard to ignore the fact that he had almost enjoyed dancing with the angel – _almost_.

"That was cute," snickered Sam, turning away from the bar tender.

"Shut up. We've got what we need. Let's get out of here."

"Sure thing. Come on, lover boy."

"You're gunna lose a lot more than your shoe if you keep that up."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

A salted and burned dead drag queen and the stench of an incinerated nylon beehive wig later, Team Free Will was ghost-free and slumped in a dingy motel room

"That has to be one of the weirder things we've dealt with," said Sam.

"I'll second that," agreed Dean. "Killer queen."

"No kidding."

"Learned something else too."

"What's that?" asked Sam.

"Cas can_not _dance."

"I've never had occasion before," said the angel uncomfortably.

"Sammy, didn't you go to dances and shit in high school?"

"So did you."

"Yeah, but I didn't _dance_," said Dean, thinking back on dances spent out behind various gyms with various girls.

"I guess I danced," shrugged Sam.

"So you can teach Cas."

"Wait. What?"

"You can teach Cas to dance."

"No way, man. Not happening. Anyway, does he look like he wants to dance?"

Both Winchesters looked as the angel.

"Do you want to dance, Cas?" asked Dean.

"Um."

"I think that's a no," said Sam who was not at all eager to try to teach Castiel to dance.

About a week later, Sam was alone in another motel room while Dean was out "collecting information," though he was more likely out hitting on any girl who might have even a vague connection to the string of local disappearances. Sam was just starting to come up with some promising information online when a rustle of wings made him look up.

"Hey Cas. What's up? Is Dean Okay?"

"I haven't seen Dean."

"Oh. So what is it?"

Castiel shuffled uncomfortably.

"What?" asked Sam again, closing his laptop.

"I, uh, _would_ you teach me to dance?" he asked, not looking at the human.

"You want to learn to dance?" asked Sam, trying his very hardest not to laugh.

"Yes."

"And you want me to teach you?"

"Yes."

Sam thought for a moment. He really wasn't that good at dancing, but he was better than Dean and the quietly pleading look Cas was giving him was extremely hard to say no to.

"Okay fine, but I'm not that good." Sam stood up. "What do you want to know?"

Castiel looked confused by the question.

"Everything," he responded simply.

"Well, I don't know _everything_ about dancing, but I can show the basics or something." He thought for a minute. What _were_ the basics of dancing? "I suppose it all comes from all partner dances like the Waltz," he began.

"What is that?"

Sam sighed. It was going to be a long night.

By the time they heard the Impala outside, they had moved from the Waltz to more modern dancing. Sam had played the angel snippets of music and showed him countless youtube videos. Castiel had also insisted on demonstrations and practicing. He actually wasn't half bad once he had an idea of what he was doing. While his style remained rather stilted and awkward, his sense of rhythm proved fairly good. Probably all that harp playing, Sam thought.

"Why do you want to know this stuff anyway?" Sam had asked after a rather spastic attempt to teach Castiel how one might dance to Lady Gaga. (Castiel had been more interested in trying to learn the purpose of her strange garb than observing how the people in the video were dancing.)

"So that I may dance properly with Dean," he replied calmly.

Sam opened had his mouth to question the angel further before coming to the conclusion that he didn't really want to know.

When Dean opened the door, all evidence, including Castiel, of the dancing lesson had vanished. Sam was sitting at his laptop again with a notebook open next to him.

"Get anything? Besides phone numbers?" he asked, looking up at his brother.

"Guilty as charged," replied Dean, holding up several napkins.

Sam sighed and shook his head.

"But yeah, I found out a few things. You?"

"I've got a few leads."

"Well, I say we deal with this tomorrow; I'm exhausted."

"Ditto." Trying to teach a socially impaired angel to dance was very tiring.

It was about another week later before Sam bore awkward witness to the fruits of his labor. He and Dean were once again in a bar (Sam reading local papers in a booth, Dean collecting information, i.e. phone numbers, at the bar) when Castiel walked up behind the younger Winchester.

"Sam."

"Jesus Cas! When did you get here?"

"Just now."

"Tell me you didn't just appear out of nowhere behind me."

"No. I entered through the door."

"Good." Sam was never sure when the angel would do or say something supernatural without even realizing it was out of place in the normal human world.

"Where is Dean?"

"There," said Sam in a thoroughly annoyed tone, jerking his thumb at the bar where his brother was skillfully wooing several attractive girls.

"Thank you," said the angel starting to move towards Dean.

"Whoa, Cas. What are you doing?"

"I wish to speak to Dean."

Sam tried and failed not to roll his eyes.

"Just don't say anything _weird_ in front of other people, Okay?"

Castiel nodded and walked over to the elder Winchester.

"Dean," he said in a low voice, tapping the hunter on the shoulder.

"Oh! Hey Cas. What's up?"

"May I speak with you?"

"Sure."

The angel looked at the female humans uncertainly. He was not exactly sure what constituted "weird." Thankfully, Dean took the hint.

"'Scuse me, ladies," he said with a smile before following Castiel away from the bar.

"What's up? Demon?"

"No," said Castiel slowly.

"More holy relics on the loose?"

"No."

"What then?"

"Dean," the angel began tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"I wish to ask you to dance with me."

Dean stared at him for a long moment.

"What?" he said finally.

Castiel frowned, realizing he had not asked in the customary manner. He tried to remember what Sam had told him.

"Would you dance with me?" he tried again.

"Dance with you?"

"Yes."

"Here?"

"Yes."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Dean asked the desperation in his voice peaking.

"I believe it is considered to be enjoyable."

"But you can't dance worth crap," said Dean, struggling for an excuse.

"Sam has instructed me."

Dean wasn't sure whether he wanted to burst out laughing or go beat up his little brother.

"This isn't really the place," he said hesitantly.

"But others are dancing," said the angel, confused.

"Yeah, but they're-," Dean stopped himself.

"They are what?"

The hunter sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"They're all straight couples, Cas."

The angel looked at him blankly.

"Straight? You know, like not gay?"

"They are not happy?"

"Not that kinda gay!" he cried in exasperation.

"Oh," said Castiel as realization dawned on him. "It would not be appropriate." He stood there awkwardly for a moment. It then occurred to him that Dean probably would not want to dance with him even if there were other "gay" couples. After all, the hunter had just been proving his avid interest in women. "My apologies, Dean," he muttered before turning away and starting to hurry back towards where Sam was sitting and trying to pretend he hadn't been watching his brother and the angel.

"Cas!" cried Dean, taking off after the angel and grabbing his arm. "Cas, I-."

"What?"

"I didn't mean to offend you," Dean mumbled, staring at his hand on Castiel's arm, suddenly unsure of why he'd been so desperate to stop the angel from leaving.

"I fear it is I who have offended you," replied Castiel stiltedly.

"No, Cas, it's just-." Dean could feel himself blushing, which only made his embarrassment grow.

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth, not at all sure what he was going to say to express his feelings to the angel – mainly because he did not know what his feelings were. Part of him was saying, "_Cas?_ Are you fucking kidding me? No way." Another part was telling him that what he was feeling was just friendship with someone outside his family, something he had long been deprived of. A different part of him was wondering what was wrong with Cas that he wanted to dance with a human. Was the angel losing his mojo again? Yet another part of him was busy having an identity crisis over what a quiet, calm part of him was gently saying. That part was telling him that he did want to dance with Castiel because he loved him, because he'd always loved him from the first moment he'd met the stick-in-the-mud angel, because he always would love him. When Dean opened his mouth it was this voice that won out.

"I'd love to dance with you, Cas."

There was a moment of silence in which both men were shocked at the words that had passed Dean's lips. Then Dean smiled and held out a hand to Castiel. The angel just looked at it for a moment, cocking his head to one side. Dean rolled his eyes and firmly took hold of Castiel's hand.

"Come on," he said tugging the angel gently towards the dance floor.

The current song ended (which Dean was grateful for; he had no desire to try to dance to hip hop with the angel) and another came on. Dean couldn't help laughing quietly when he recognized it – "Heaven Can Wait" by Mean Loaf.

"What is it?" asked Castiel.

"Nothing. Just the song."

Once out on the dance floor, Dean found an empty space amongst the swaying couples and wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist, pulling the angel close. Cas placed his arms around Dean's neck, leaning into the hunter's embrace.

As they danced, Dean was very conscious of the odd looks they kept getting, but as the song wore on thoughts of anything that was not Castiel faded from his mind. Even through the bulky trench coat the angel was warm in his arms, real and soft as any human. Strange as Castiel was, it wasn't the hard to see why Dean loved him. After spending most of this life trying to protect his brother and follow his father's commandments to the letter, it was nice, almost a relief, to have someone who looked after _him_ and did not bark orders at him day and night, someone who cared about him and loved him for who he was and not what he was capable of doing. Dean nuzzled his face into Cas's hair and sighed contentedly. Heaven _could_ wait. Hell, everything could wait. For these few, fleeting minutes, he was safe in the arms of his angel.

Castiel, for his part, was somewhere between utter bliss and raging turmoil. He had never felt happier than he did at this moment, wrapped in Dean's strong arms, pressed against his warm, human chest, and moving gently with the music. He had known Paradise, but it had not come anything close to this. Most angels would never know the glory of a loving, human touch so they would never know what they were missing, but now that Castiel had felt it he did not know that he could ever lived without it again. But he was meant to live without it. He was an angel, not made for mortal love and yet he had allowed himself to become entangled in it. This sort of love was a gift his Father had granted to the humans, not to his angels. Castiel should not be feeling these things and especially not for Dean. However, if he was not meant to feel love, then why had his Father created him with the ability to feel it at all? It didn't make sense. And yet he was so happy.

"Cas?" whispered Dean.

"Yes?"

"You Okay?"

"I am," the angel hesitated, "fine. And very happy."

"Good. Me too."

They swayed in silence, warm in each others' arms, unable to want anything but this moment, wrong as it might seem to both of them. After a few more measures of song, Dean spoke again. The dance was almost over and, while a part of him felt he should carefully voice his feelings, he spoke without really thinking.

"I think I love you, Cas. I think I've always loved you," he whispered into the angel's hair.

"I think I love you too, Dean."

Dean smiled and pressed his face into Cas's hair and the angel turned his head to bury his face in the hunter's neck, safe for these few minutes from the evils they spent their days chasing down.

Neither wanted the song to end.

But it did, as all songs do, and they broke apart slowly and returned to where Sam was sitting, still trying to pretend he hadn't been watching the whole time.

"Find anything?" asked Dean casually, sliding into the booth to sit across from his brother.

"Just the police write-ups."

"But you think it's our sort of thing?"

"Unless it's become normal for people to lock all their doors, drown themselves in their bathtubs, and then hang their own dead bodies from the ceiling."

"That seems unlikely," said Castiel, following Dean's lead and sitting down next to the elder hunter.

"Yeah," said Sam. "So I guess talk to the police tomorrow and then see if we can get into the houses."

"House_s_?" repeated Dean. "Plural? How many times has this happened?"

"Twice. So far."

"So it's not a ghost then."

"Guess not."

The trio fell into silence. Sam returned to perusing the newspaper articles with his highlighter poised. Castiel was gazing at the dancers, though he was too lost in thought to really see what he was looking at. Dean too seemed deep in thought, but he was more just awash in a stupor of joy. He reached under the table and quietly took Castiel's hand. The angel looked around at the hunter in surprise and opened his mouth to speak, but Dean just shook his head, giving Cas's hand a gentle squeeze.

"So you, uh, sticking around for this one, Cas?" asked Sam, suppressing a snicker of amusement.

Dean looked over at the angel, a sweet question in his eyes.

"I think I might."

Sam laughed quietly and shook his head, but Dean smiled at Castiel who returned the look, thinking that maybe it would be alright to love a human; dancing was in the Bible after all.


End file.
